Most Felicitous Nuptials
by Thalia Kendall
Summary: As Draco and Ginny prepare to wed, there is hilarity and chaos. Will Draco be disemboweled by a spazzing overprotective Ron? Will he marry in the form of un petite furet? Humour-romance one-shot.


A/N: Yes, yes… this would be AU. Sirius is ALIVE in this version. Romance/humour one-shot, D/G, spastic!Ron, snarky Warrington, Narcissa, and the like. It's all fun. Yes. Review?

Disclaimer: … Yeah, uh huh, like I'd claim ownership to a man saying vows up at the altar to another woman. Riiight. 

~*~ Most Felicitous Nuptials ~*~

Oh, woe was Ron Weasley in these dark times… the lanky redhead, 23 years old and glowering like a freckled thundercloud, paced about the well-lit hallway of the French chateau. In one of the luxurious rooms, his sister, surrounded by a gaggle of other women, was getting ready to commit what should, in Ron's mind, be deemed a crime against humanity.

Perhaps Narcissa Malfoy had been especially astute, and realized that, were the wedding to take place in England, the chance for extensive bloodshed between the bride's brothers and the groom was a bit too much for comfort. She had therefore offered to open a summer home of her parents for Draco and Ginny's use, whisked them off to France soon after the engagement, and smiled serenely when the young couple, enchanted with the temperate French countryside, decided to hold the wedding over there.

Ron considered that his sister's future mother-in-law might have also taken into account that, being fussed over and lionized by the various jabbering French relatives and acquaintances, not to mention the ridiculous amount of former schoolmates who were either participating in the wedding, or attending the "union of the couple that no one believes exists until they've been seen snogging in some random closet", as termed by a cheerful Su Li, that there wasn't a lot of time to be spared for murder plots.

Sneaky Slytherins…

The summer house was crawling with human serpents at the moment. Malfoy, unsurprisingly, had chosen three Slytherins to be his groomsmen. All right… so it could have been worse. Zabini, Warrington and Jacques Dorny, in the very least, were minor improvements upon the prospect of Crabbe and Goyle. But aside from them, there was also nearly the whole bloody Slytherin Quidditch team of their schooldays, several Slytherin females (Ron would never understand how either Neville or Seamus put up with them), and various other smarmy bastards whose names he didn't know.

The good side? Hermione was there. As a bridesmaid. In reasonably form-fitting dress robes.

The bad side? As a bridesmaid, she had to actually touch that suave, French-accented Jacques "I-have-better-hair-than-bloody-Lockhart" Dorny, and not with intent to kill or maim, and walk a whole twenty-five feet on the bugger's arm. 

Well. There was of course also the fact that his sister was marrying the ferret. But that had been wailed, pouted and grouched over already at great length.

Ron continued to pace down the hallway. Yes, he knew that the room with the gilt fleur de lys on the oak door was off-limits, and inside, Ginny and the girls were all getting dolled up. He could hear giggles and whispers and muffled words.

"Honestly, Ginny… you're _not_ going to trip. We made sure to cast a Steadying Charm on those killer high heels," Hermione was speaking, somewhat bossily. 

"Did someone make sure to cast a similar spell on Draco?" the sweet yet slightly wry voice of Calista Green, the youngest of the bridesmaids, piped up. "If not, someone should."

"Oh, don't worry," the breezy, lilting voice of Su Li, "We've thought of that already. Cassius will do that… and if all else fails, I did bring the invisible prop."

There was laughter then, silvery, girlish laughter. Ginny gave a slight snort, "Oh, come off it… he's NOT going to fall. It's not as though he hasn't seen me wearing less than this."

More laughter now, and Hermione tut-tutted, though she too was chuckling. But Ron didn't hear, for he was too busy barreling down the hallway and stomping down the staircase with completely justifiable murder on his mind.

~*~

            Downstairs, in the huge ballroom where the actual wedding ceremony would be taking place, one blond was being quite heartily scolded by another one. 

            "'Onestly," the female blonde's voice was melodious, even if very exasperated, "You 'ave to calm yourself! Zis silly pacing is making me dizzy!" 

            Fleur Delacour Weasley, fourth cousin thrice removed of Narcissa Malfoy, gave her husband's sister's groom a severe look, blue eyes filled with irritation. Draco merely glared back at her and continued to pace, pale gray dress robes billowing around him. Fleur crossed her arms over her slightly rounded belly.

            "Draco Malfoy, if you don't stop zat _infernal_ pazing, I swear zat you will regret it. Unless you WANT to be married while in ze form of _un petite furet_." Fleur hissed, sea-blue eyes narrowed, "What are you so scared about, anyway? Ginny is right 'ere in zis 'ouse; I promise you, nosing can 'appen to 'er 'ere."

            "That's not what I'm worried about," Draco muttered darkly, looking over his shoulder every few seconds like a paranoid demon. "It's…"

            "AAAARGH! YOU BLOODY LECHEROUS FERRET, I'M GOING TO _KILL YOU!_" This battle cry reached their ears at that particular moment. Fleur raised an eyebrow and muttered something about rotten timing… couldn't Ron have killed Draco BEFORE she, Fleur, had helped do so much preparation for the wedding? "YOU… YOU SMARMY-ARSED BLEACHED LITTLE TWONK! HOW _DARE_ YOU?!"

            "…that," Draco groaned. "Weasley, these robes were VERY VERY expensive."

            "YOU SHAGGED MY SISTER!"

            "I didn't shag YOU, so what are you going on about?" Draco grumbled, backing away as Ron barreled into the ballroom. "Your sister would be very upset if you killed me."

            "There was nothing said about maiming you," Ron advanced furiously, his face doing an admirable job of emulating the red roses in the room in terms of colour even as he drew his wand. 

            But before Ron's furious charge could take place, another voice called out the Disarming spell, and even as Ron's wand flew into Warrington's hand, to disappear into a pocket a second later, the dark-haired Slytherin caught his collar and effectively prevented the flying leap at Draco's person. Warrington smirked, "Now, now… injure Draco if you must, but not when he's all dressed up like that. And try to avoid certain areas of his body. I don't think his fiancée would appreciate it much if her wedding night were to be spent curled up alone with a good book. Even the Kama Sutra."

            Fleur shook her head as Ron wheeled around, now to discharge his wrath upon the other Slytherin. Apparently it was within the habits of that house… that when one had to help a friend fend off a potential assailant, one was to deliberately make that assailant about twice as furious as before, with all the anger turned on oneself instead. She would have considered it an almost Gryffindor masochistic altruism had it not been for the wide smirk on Warrington's face, showing his complete amusement and enjoyment of the situation.

            Just when it seemed like Ron was about to have a brawl of medieval tavern proportions with the two Slytherins on the principle of the thing, more footsteps sounded, as Narcissa Malfoy, closely followed by Sirius Black and Sirius' wife Maya, stepped in. Narcissa gave one quick look around the room, and raised a questioning eyebrow. "Is there something wrong, Mr. Weasley?"

            Ron pointed a shaking finger at Draco, then at Warrington, then back at Draco, seemingly unsure of which of the two evils to put to rights first.

            "Are they being…" Narcissa started, wondering how to tactfully phrase it. Saying 'royal gits' didn't seem very right…

            "Our usual charming selves?" Warrington kept his death-grip on Ron's collar, ducking the redhead's flailing arms. "Of course we are, Mrs. Malfoy. I think that Weasley here has just suddenly discovered that his sister is in fact twenty-two, and not twelve. And is therefore trying to murder your son. An event which I am obligingly trying to prevent."

            Sirius gave the younger man a quick glance, and chuckled into his wife's ear, "Poor Ron…"

            "Wease—er… WEASLEY… if you would kindly stop flailing about in my groomsman's grip," Draco chose to pipe up at this moment, "If you MUST make a spectacle of yourself, please attempt to do so without grabbing at him."

            Ron gave an incoherent grunt and continued to struggle, and Draco continued with a shake of his head, "Really, it's for your own good. Granger might come out and think that you were groping him or something. Gryffindors tend to jump to conclusions. It would be bad."

            Over the resulting din, Warrington called out to Narcissa and Maya, "Would either of you two lovely ladies be so kind… oof… as to bring in a goblet of _Pacifio _draught?"

            Narcissa gave the three young men a slightly reproachful look before walking off towards the kitchens. Fleur glanced at Sirius and Maya, and shook her head. "I did not want to get caught in ze fray in my condizion," she said primly, before turning towards Sirius with a questioning look, "Why must zese men be so… so… 'ormonal? I seem to recall everyone being pairfectly _bien comporté_ at my own wedding…"

            "Well," Sirius gave the younger woman a grin, "Your family doesn't seem to consider Bill Weasley to be the spawn of Satan. And I think that Ron and the like didn't want to incur the wrath of the vela and part-veela relatives present."

            "True, I suppose," Fleur gave an elegant little shrug, "But 'onestly… zey are adults… zey should be _mature_…"

            "They ARE being mature," Cassius had successfully wrestled Ron's arms behind his back, "You notice the admirable lack of raspberry-blowing between these two pillocks… _I_ think they should be commended."

            Maya raised an eyebrow at the younger man, a 'cousin of sorts' after his mother's brother had adopted her out of a wizarding orphanage. "Now, now… Cassius, _you_ should stop antagonizing either of them, too. Can't you see that they're both worn to a frazzle already?"

            "Of course I can," Warrington replied comfortably, still holding onto a now-still Ron whose glare spoke volumes of his malevolent intentions as soon as the burly Slytherin prat would let go of him. "This way, they'll be too tired to act up when the wedding actually takes place, and no one has to know about the murder attempt of a few moments ago."

            Draco shot him a spiteful look. "I'll be happy to see _you_ getting attacked by vicious overprotective gits at _your_ wedding."

            "You forget," Warrington gave the younger man a smug look, "_I_, unlike you, do have the capability of winning over the family of my woman to blind devotion. _And_… she doesn't have six older brothers."

            "I hate you."

            "Why thank you, I'm flattered."

            At this moment, Narcissa walked back in with a goblet of blue fluid. To calm… and to induce good feelings. As Cassius pressed a point near the redhead's jaw to force Ron's mouth open, the contents of the cup were poured down Ron's throat. Almost immediately, Ron relaxed, and slowly gave everyone in the room a goofy grin. Cassius watched intently, seeing that the Gryffindor HAD in fact swallowed the whole dose, and then released the younger man's arms. 

            A now artificially and supremely happy Ron Weasley gave a benevolent sort of smile to all assembled, before remarking, in a voice that could only be described as chipper, "I'll go and freshen up! My little sister's wedding, you know… _veeeeery_ important!"

            As the beaming redhead walked off in the direction of the nearest washroom, Draco turned to his mother with a very suspicious look on his face. "How many cheering charms did you hit that thing with, mum? You just turned bloody Weasley into Gilderoy Lockhart."

            "I think Weasley's still heterosexual," Warrington remarked to no one in particular, earning him a chuckle from both Sirius and Narcissa, a wry shake of the head from Maya, and a veiled glare from Draco. "And… come to think of it, the wedding WILL be rather soon. Malfoy, I'll go fetch your errant best man and your cousin, now that your life is no longer in imminent danger." 

            "And I'll go see how the girls are doing," Maya declared. And as the dark-haired young man made his way towards one of the drawing rooms, the redheaded woman walked towards the spiraling staircase.

            As the two walked out in opposite directions, Narcissa Malfoy gave a rather delicate little sniffle, and peered up into the face of her son. "All grown up, love…" she whispered, her blue eyes wide on her face, "You look _very_ handsome, darling..." Reaching up slightly, she kissed her son on the cheek. 

            As Draco squirmed and muttered random things about the possibility of incurring Ginny's wrath if she'd gotten lipstick on his face, Sirius gave a snort and shot a sardonic look at Narcissa.

            "Narcissa, I know that you're secretly exulting to yourself that the boy's finally found someone who can keep him in line. Don't even pretend to sniffle about it..." 

            Narcissa raised an aristocratic blonde eyebrow at Sirius, and remarked, in a voice of perfect calm, "Sirius, if you cannot say anything nice, mature and otherwise unlike your usual self, go laugh with that godson of yours. I am pleased with my son, but if I don't at least do a convincing show of flutteriness, it will be obvious that Draco's the most nervous one here, and my daughter-in-law-to-be's family will remark upon it, and he'll pout through the whole ceremony."

            And then, the guests started pouring in, and Warrington returned with Blaise Zabini and Jacques Dorny. And as three young women, dressed in cream-coloured robes, descended the staircase, the groomsmen went to stand next to them, and almost on-cue, the music started.

            The bride, then, sheathed in white, made her graceful way down the staircase on her father's arm, and perhaps Narcissa's fears that her son would spend the ceremony pouting were unfounded after all.

            And even the Weasley brothers who were _not_ drugged to the gills had to admit (if not publically), that it seemed as though Draco might really love their little sister after all. He didn't even seem to notice the death glares, or anything else for that matter, when his bride finally reached the end of the aisle and laid her slender hand in his.

            "I love weddings…" Narcissa gave a little sniffle as she eyed the assembly, before her gaze settled on Ron Weasley, who was flashing wide grins and thumbs up at the couple at the altar, and being eyed warily by her son, who was evidently QUITE unused to such benevolence from his love's most belligerent brother. And Narcissa's lips curved into a little smirk, blue eyes glinting mischievously. "Weddings are so… amusing."


End file.
